


Step Out Of the Sun If You Keep Getting Burned

by orphan_account



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Anxiety Disorder, Break Up, Depression, Enjolras Has Feelings, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Mental Ilness, unhealthy relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-26
Updated: 2017-06-26
Packaged: 2018-11-19 06:35:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11307753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Enjolras got more than he bargained for when he asked Grantaire out.  Now he's not sure if he can handle it.





	Step Out Of the Sun If You Keep Getting Burned

"Hey, hand me my cologne!"

Enjolras frowned and glanced at the bottle.  He opened it and took a whiff only to be greeted by a rancid smell that was distinctly alcoholic.  Taking a few steps backwards, he held the bottle behind his back and glared up at Grantaire.

"This isn't cologne and you know it," he grumbled.  "I thought you said you were going cold turkey."

"I-I was, it's just-"

"It's just what?"

"Well, it's just that I needed it and - are you mad at me?" Grantaire looked ashamed and on the verge of tears.

"No," Enjolras answered.  It didn't matter that Grantaire had lied to him - again.  It didn't matter than whenever something went wrong, Grantaire would get all emotional and make Enjolras feel like shit.  It didn't matter that Enjolras found it impossible to be honest with his boyfriend because he knew that Grantaire would cry and avoid the problem if he was honest.  It didn't matter that Enjolras was never allowed to be angry.   It just didn't matter.

What mattered was making Grantaire happy.  What mattered was making sure Grantaire didn't do something self destructive.  What mattered was Grantaire's feelings.  What mattered was making sure Grantaire was in a good mental state and Enjolras always being there for him when he wasn't in a good mental state (which was most of the time).  What mattered was listening to everything Grantaire had to say with enthusiasm - even if the listening skills were not reciprocated and even if Grantaire knew that Enjolras didn't really like the subject.  As long as Grantaire was happy, everything would be okay.

"Enjolras, I'm sorry - do you hate me?" Grantaire sniffled.

"No, of course not.  I love you, okay?" Enjolras smiled and pulled Grantaire into a hug.

"I'm such a disappointment," Grantaire muttered into his shoulder.  "I can't do anything right.  I'm sorry I'm so fucking useless."

"No, no, you're not useless.  Don't say that about yourself.  You're amazing and talented and beautiful and I'm so lucky to have you."

"Really?"

"Really."

"But I'm ugly."

Enjolras sighed silently and mentally prepared himself for the one hour argument that he knew was coming.  He was going to convince Grantaire - again - that he was beautiful and worth something.  Enjolras felt bad about it, but he was tired of having to convince Grantaire of this every few days.  He knew it wasn't Grantaire's fault but a small part of him always boiled in frustration when Grantaire said self deprecating statements.  It was like it didn't matter what Enjolras said or did - it would never be enough.

So here they both stood.  Leaning against a wall in their bathroom, Enjolras petting Grantaire's hair and showering him with compliments that no longer held any meaning to him, and Grantaire leaning against his shoulder and sniffling every few seconds.  An hour later, they had both sunk to the floor and Grantaire was now nodding and thanking Enjolras for taking time to talk with him.  Then, as usual, Grantaire stood up and walked to his room.  He claimed he needed a nap, but Enjolras knew he was probably just watching YouTube videos or jacking off.  It was fine, though.  Enjolras needed a break, too.

Truth be told, Enjolras had some mental issues of his own.  He would be lying if he ever claimed that he didn't have some messed up things coming from between his ears.  He knew he couldn't tell Grantaire about it, though, so he kept it to himself.  He took his pills and blasted music through his headphones while silently reminding himself that he was the strong one.  He  was the one that made everything good and he was supposed to make sure Grantaire was okay - he didn't have time to worry about himself.  Enjolras knew his feelings would pass and so he chose not to think too deeply on them. Besides, he had a job to do.

Enjolras always took his jobs seriously.  He ran his group of liberators like a well oiled machine and he wrote his speeches and practiced them until what he had to say achieved perfect clarity.  Then, after he had accomplished these things, he made sure that Grantaire was okay.  Or he would try to. Sometimes, Grantaire wouldn't open the door, and Enjolras would tell himself that it was okay for Grantaire to want space.  There was a small part in the back of his mind that was begging him to open the door and make sure Grantaire wasn't hurting himself, but Grantaire had already told him not to do that, and Enjolras was a firm believer in respecting privacy.

Enjolras remembered one time he left his journal open on the table.  Truth be told, he was hoping Grantaire would read it and then ask Enjolras if this was how he really felt.  He had hoped that Grantaire would sympathize with him and maybe say something that would make his internal struggles quiet down for a bit.  That hope was shattered when he arrived home to a red-faced Grantaire who was holding his diary in a death grip.   _'I don't think you've been honest with me,'_  he had said in a low and dangerous voice.   _'Why didn't you tell me this was how you felt?  Why aren't you honest with me?'_  Enjolras hadn't had a reply, so Grantaire had slammed the diary on the table and then stormed into his room.  Enjolras burned the book that night.

So now Enjolras looked at the bottle and turned it over in his hand.  He wished he could convince Grantaire that he didn't need it.  Unfortunately, Enjolras couldn't even convince Grantaire that he loved him, let alone convince him that he didn't need the liquid that he was so dependent on.  He wanted to trust Grantaire - he really did, but he knew he couldn't.  He thought about Cosette and Marius.  They were so happy together - the very picture of love and felicity.  He wondered why he couldn't have that with Grantaire.   He wanted to have a conversation with his boyfriend without worrying about triggering a self-hating rant.  He wanted to take Grantaire out to the movies whenever without having to worry about whether it was a day that Grantaire wanted to be with him or if it was a day where Grantaire wanted to be left alone.  He wanted to tell Grantaire about the last book he read or the season finale of some TV show he enjoyed without feeling like an idiot after seeing Grantaire's non-committal shrug.  He wanted his thoughts to stop telling him that there was something wrong with him because he was incapable of bringing Grantaire happiness.  

Enjolras sighed and put the bottle in his pocket.  He thought back to Marius and Cosette again and wondered what their secret was.  Surely, they weren't so happy all the time.  Although, Cosette was always saying happy things and Marius was posting pictures of himself with her and her father, whereas Grantaire just posted things that were disturbingly dark and suicidal on his social media.  Marius always brought Cosette such happiness, but Enjolras couldn't seem to do the same for Grantaire.  Enjolras decided then that if he couldn't bring Grantaire happiness, then he would stop trying.  He knew it was selfish, but he just didn't think he could handle it anymore.  He took a deep breath and knocked gently on Grantaire's door.  He was met with a muffled, "not now", but he opened the door anyway.

"Enjolras, please, I said not now," Grantaire frowned and looked at him with pleading eyes.  The look in those eyes made Enjolras want to turn back, but he steeled himself and pushed through.

"I want to talk about something."

"What is it?"

"I'm not...ready for this.  This type of relationship."

"What? What do you mean?" Grantaire looked ready to burst into tears.

"I just think t-that I am not at a place in l-life where I can handle-"

"Are you breaking up with me?  What the fuck?" Grantaire had started crying and Enjolras wanted to run from the room, but he remained steadfast and continued.

"I can't do this.  I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry, but I just can't do-"

"Why the hell are you doing this now?"

"I'm just-"

"Get out," Grantaire sniffled and pointed to the door.

Enjolras shuffled to the entrance and slipped away.  He muttered a quiet, "I'm sorry" before closing the door and taking a deep breath. He ran to the medicine cabinet and dumped all the pills into a plastic bag before shoving it into his pocket.  He didn't want to know what Grantaire might do if he left them there.  He felt like crying himself, but instead, he took out his phone and dialed Courfeyrac's number.

"Enjolras?" came the muffled answer.  "You okay?  It's awfully late."

"I-I'm alright.  I just need a place to stay."

There was a beat of silence before, "Did something happen with Grantaire?"

"Um, yeah - no, I don't know.  Just...can I stay there for a while?"

"Of course you can.  Do you need me to come pick you up?"

"Yeah.  Sorry about this," Enjolras took deep breaths but could already feel tears breaking free.

"It's no problem.  I'll be there in ten minutes.  We can catch a movie, how does that sound?" Courfeyrac suggested with a worried tone.

"That sounds great.  See you in ten," Enjolras replied.  He walked out of the apartment and stared at the door.  He took a deep breath and while he knew this was for the best, he could feel his heart breaking.

**Author's Note:**

> This is heavily based on a relationship with an ex-girlfriend of mine. Like a lot of this literally happened and anyway I'm still lowkey mad about it. Gosh, when will I ever not channel my emotions through Enjolras?


End file.
